Run like an angry Kenyan!
by totheextraordinarykb
Summary: Because what else is there to do for 13.1 miles? Run?
1. The Starting Line

_**Run like an angry Kenyan!**_

**MILE 0:**

The sky was still dark, the air chilly, but the streets were buzzing, alive with the sounds of thousands of runners. Periodically the voices of the announcers boomed from loudspeakers mounted on the streetlights, but only quick words and phrases can really be made out: "Get ready… half marathon… 25000 runners… take on the city!" In between announcements, peppy music floated through the air.

Her finger tapped the beat on her thigh, as she moved them through the crowd effectively, searching for their starting block. Kate had been ambitious, signing them up for a 9:00-9:59 mile pace, and Castle was swearing behind her, startling the people they moved through. "How the fuck did I let you talk me into this? The madness, Kate! This body was not made for running!" She ignored him, focusing on moving forward. Castle kept speaking though. "Hey, Kate, you think we can stay here? Hey look! It's the 10:00-12:59 start group. Yep, this is what I was made for. I like this; I'm going to stay here. Yep."

She reached behind her, twisting her hand into his and giving it a brief squeeze. "Come on, Castle," she turned, a small smile on her face. "Did you forget that you're doing this for charity?" She pulled them through the next barricade, flashing the pacing bracelet on her wrist as they passed.

They lined up at the back of the group, a concession to Castle's desires. Kate began to bounce on the balls of her feet, the excitement of the race ahead coursing through her, stretching out her arms too. Next to her, Castle stood stoic, arms folded, pouting, and the sight was adorable. She moved up to him, sliding alongside him, pulling him into her arms. To be honest, she was thankful for his warmth – at only 6:45 am in the fall, NYC is still chilly. "Hey, Castle. We've been training for this. We've got it." He doesn't respond, preferring the insulted silent treatment. She shook her head, amused, before disentangling herself and bending down to stretch, touching her toes. Feeling his eyes on her ass, she looked up at him, making eye contact. "Really?!" Straightening herself, she pushed him lightly. "Come on, stretch, get warm; you don't want to pull something."

"Yeah, get warm. What a joke. It's fucking cold out here. Hey, look at that person! And that one! They all have on sweatshirts and you wouldn't let me wear one out of the apartment today!"

"That's because then you would be very hot in about fifteen minutes. Trust me, Castle. This is not my first half marathon."

Castle grumbled to himself, "Yeah, well it's my first. And last."

Kate smiled. She had felt the same way before her first race, swore up and down that she'd never do such a foolhardy thing again. Her mother wanted a "bonding weekend" with her daughter and had signed them both up for a half marathon in San Francisco. Johanna had flown out on Saturday, they had spent a lovely day in the city, and Kate had made it abundantly clear she wanted nothing to do with a 5:30 am wake-up only to stand in the cold for a half hour before starting a race that would involve running 13.1 hours for another two hours. Her mother had only shook her head and told Kate that she'd do it, that she'd love it, even as Kate stood at the starting line, grumbling and swearing under her breath, cursing her mother's bad ideas.

Forty minutes into the race, a grin on her face, she had turned to her mother, raving about how much fun she was having.

She knew Castle would be the same way. When they went on runs together, they would make up stories about the people they passed, and Castle would become so engrossed he would never realize how long he had been running for. For his runs on his own, she had bought him an iPhone app that had zombies and missions and something else; she honestly didn't know the details, but she knew that he came back from those runs, grinning and all proud he would survive the apocalypse, before "distributing" supplies with a few swipes on his phone. Kate just laughed at his gleeful smile and thanked her lucky stars that she hadn't wasted eight dollars on the app. Castle had the mind for running, able to occupy itself for miles, and he would love the race.

A gunshot in the distance and the unconscious reflex was triggered; Kate's hand reached for her hip, before dropping. Castle gave her a concerned look, but smiled when Kate offered a sheepish grin, more embarrassed than anything. "Whoops?" she said, and he laughed, before their line began to move forward. The race was huge, and they would not be starting for a number of minutes, but the group moved closer yet to the starting gate, shuffling forward.

She twisted her hand into his, weaving their fingers together, enjoying the weight of his against hers. His fingers moved restlessly against the back of her hands, drumming a nervous rhythm, and it was the first time she realized he might actually be anxious about this. "Hey, Castle?" He looked down at her. "You're going to rock this."

"You bet your ass I am. I'll probably even beat you."

"HEY!" She protested. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I could kick your ass."

He shook his head. "Nope. I'm pretty sure I'm going to win. I mean, just face the facts, Beckett. I'm going to beat you."

"Unlikely." They have moved into the starting chute now, and the crowd has broken into a light jog, so they released hands and began to jog. She bumped him lightly as they passed over the threshold of the start line and picked up the pace slightly. "Ready for your first half?"

"Unlikely." He parroted her line back, and she laughed. They set a brisk pace, but they can both speak comfortably, even if they had to take pauses at times between sentences. They ran for a few minutes in silence, before they simultaneously broke out in laughter at a sign held by a spectator: "Run like an angry Kenyan!"

"Brilliant." He stated. "Will there be more of these along the course?"

She nodded, and he immediately perked up, began scanning the course ahead for more good ones. "Hey Castle?"

"Yeah, Kate?" His breath was just the slightest bit labored, a little pout on the end, and it made her grin.

"Thanks for running this with me, Castle." He hadn't needed to. She had teased him mercilessly about being such a gentleman he was going to let her run all alone, struggling alone. But she had teased every boyfriend before, and none of them had decided it was worth the hours of training to actually participate in the race with her.

"I'm sure I'll regret it tomorrow –" he breathed, "or in a half hour, but absolutely." A beat. "I'm glad to get to do this with you."

She looked up at him. He was sincere, and she smiled for a moment before looking ahead of her again. "Well, Castle, since you're doing this for me, I'm doing this for you." She made a movement with her hand, and the pair slid around a slow moving group ahead, picking up the pace slightly to get into an empty patch again. They slowed, and then she resumed her statement. "I'm going to tell you a story for every mile – a new story about me that you haven't heard before." She checked the path ahead, before switching to side shuffles. She licked her lips seductively when he glanced at her, and he gasped lightly before shifting his attention ahead. "And hey, Castle? You know what the story at the finish line will be?" He looked at her, took in her raised eyebrows, and shook his head, feigning innocence. She smiled. He knew damn well what she was about to say, but the man always wanted to hear her say it. "I'm going to blow your fucking mind – in so many ways."

His pace picked up slightly, and she switched back to a jog from the side shuffle. "What are you doing, Castle?"

He looked at her seriously. "Let's get to the end faster."

She shook her head. "We've got 12.1 more miles," she said, pointing to the MILE ONE sign they just passed. "12 stories to go! Let's take it slowly, starting with my first story. You'll enjoy this race, Castle." She looked at him. "I promise."

"Yeah, yeah. Get on with the story, Kate."

She grinned, and began the first of twelve stories.

* * *

_Author's Note: I think what I'm planning to do with this story is fairly self-evident. Born from my own experiences racing, a couple of fabulous runs from my high school XC days, and an adorable couple I saw running the NWM two weekends ago._

_Also, this is a sign I really saw during my race. I also very really almost tripped over the sidewalk because I started laughing so hard. I do not regret putting this in here, but I'm sorry if the stereotype offends you._

_As always, reviews are SO damn appreciated. I can't get better without your help, and I hope you feel like you're starting to see improvement. I'm hoping to have inspiration in the other outstanding story I have - I have later chapters of "Ancient, Modern or Sexual?" written, but not current ones. Anyway, my point is - reviews = really really happy Jennifer. :D_


	2. Mile Marker 1

**MILE 1:**

"When I was ten –"

"TEN!?" Castle exclaims. "You have twelve stories to tell me and you're going to start when you're already TEN?! I feel cheated!"

"Shut up, Castle. I'm not telling them in order. I'm telling them as I remember them, and your writer's mind is just going to have to deal with that." She shakes her head slightly, a tick of annoyance.

They pass a gospel choir singing on the side of the road, and Castle is momentarily distracted, belting out an out-of-breath "Amazing Grace" alongside them, Kate struggling to breathe while breaking out in laughter. The choir smiles and waves to the couple, amused, but in only moments, the pair has left them behind, and Castle turns to Kate. "When you were ten…"

"When I was ten, my math teacher told me I was bad at math, and shouldn't have been in the advanced class." Kate thought back to the day. It had been heartbreaking at the time, and while her parents had both assured her the teacher was not right, she never recovered the same fearless ambition in the subject. "When I was thirteen, I failed my first math test. Granted, I was two levels above grade level, but I remember sitting in stunned silence for the whole class, the day really. The moment my parents walked in the front door, though, I burst into tears."

Castle looked at her for a moment, and they ran onwards for a few paces in silence.

"I love math. I love the puzzle, the fact that there's always an answer. I love the thrill of discovery. But after those two experiences, I never believed in my math abilities anymore, not really. I knew I could get As, but I didn't have the passion. And I spent years dreading math, until one day in high school – I met the problem that was my undoing."

They passed the port-o-potties, and Kate falls silent, breathing through her mouth to avoid the stench. When they've passed, Castle bumps her lightly on the shoulder. "So? The problem to end all problems?"

Kate laughed "Yes, the problem straight from hell. It was three am, and I was still stuck on this damn problem. It was a take home exam, only four questions, and I couldn't get this last one – so I'd get a 75% without this. That wasn't happening to Katherine Beckett. I had big dreams! I was going to Stanford!" She smiled.

"Three am, and all I had where four pages of random equations and scribbles, too many derivatives lingering on the page, and a couple of random "fucks" written on the page for vengeance's sake."

"I'm sure your teacher loved those."

"I wasn't going to turn in those pages, Castle! Anyway, there I was. And the longer I stared at the page, the longer I got flashes of inspirations that amounted to nothing, I kept hearing my fifth grade math teacher in my head – 'You're stupid. You can't do math. You'll never amount to anything, why are you even in this class, why do you even try?' I couldn't figure out how to connect the dots. I would get this vague sense I was getting SO close, but then it would just slip from my fingers, because I'd have one too many variables, one too many expressions."

She sighed, turned to him. His face shows confusion, and she thinks it's probably better to put this in the terms of the artist, the author in him. "It's like when you know what you're trying to convey, but you can't get the words to work for you. The sentence is perfect, but ends on a preposition, or the description phrase isn't placed next to what it modifies, but when you put it in the proper location, the whole rhythm falls apart." Castle nodded once, and she knew he got her point.

"I remember thinking to myself, 'I can do this', and picking up the pen, surveying the page, repeating the mantra, but having it fall apart as the numbers and letters in multiple alphabets swarmed in front of me. I remember leaning my elbows on the desk, cradling my head in my hands, and looking down at the pages, letting my mind lose focus, trying to see a pattern, but there was none. The clock read four am, and I wanted sleep."

She smiled; she remembered this part well. "So I decided I'd give up. I wrote down every variation of the problem I had tried, and when it had fallen to pieces, I wrote a couple of sentences explaining why it failed. I figured I'd get some partial credit, that it would be worth something, that maybe I could pull off a B and with the rest of my exams, get it up to an A- for the quarter. And a half hour later, I slinked into bed and slept for a couple of hours, before the alarm rang for school."

She stopped speaking, as though done, and Castle turned to look at her. "Is that the end of the story?" Kate took a moment to catch her breath, looked at a runner beside her whose tee shirt declared that she was running for her aunt who passed away from breast cancer, before turning to Castle.

"No, that's not the end. This is the end: I waited for a week to find out what I'd get on that exam. Finally the day came. Our teacher walked into class and started to speak about the exam. He said that the majority of the class had all gotten problem three – that's the problem I was stuck on – problem three wrong; in fact, only one person got it right. He wouldn't tell us the answer, but just walked around handing back the exams. I remember seeing on mine the words 'Brilliant job' – not even registering the grade, just 'Brilliant job' – before flipping to page three. Turns out there wasn't an answer for question three; that was the trick. That there was no right answer."

Castle looked at her, "There's a moral there, isn't there? You actually told a story about an exam so that you could give me a fucking moral?!"

"Yeah, there's a moral, and you can shut up about the fact there's a moral. It's not a moral for you. It was a moral for me – that there wasn't always an answer, that things don't always wrap up neatly. It was a lesson I find valuable in my work – sometimes cases go cold – and in my life, because sometimes we lose things for nonsensical reasons, and there's no answer. Without that memory, I think I'd always search for the answer; I don't think I could ever have peace. With that memory, I can retain sanity in the quest for truth – because sometimes the truth is not absolute."

She turned to Castle. "You're sweating! Didn't I tell you that you didn't want a sweatshirt?"

"Yeah, yeah, Beckett, you're always right." He smiled softly for a moment to himself, observing the ground in front of him, admiring the light patter of multiple sneakers hitting asphalt at the same time.

"Hey Kate? For what it's worth, I know the answer to the questions that matter when it comes to you."

Kate exhaled, let the words escape quietly on the breath, almost a whisper, a sigh, "I know you do."

They ran in relative silence for the rest of the mile, Kate considering her next story choice. Castle, on the other hand, was engrossed in creating a hip-hop rendition of "Amazing Grace", random lyrics occasionally flowing from his mouth in a quick beat, broken up with the deep breaths of exertion. In three minutes, they saw the Mile 2 sign ahead, and Castle looked at Kate eagerly, excited to hear her next tale.

* * *

_Author's Note: ENJOY. :) Clearly, this is more about the stories than the race - but I'm thinking I'll try to interject more racing details in the story if you guys are interested in exactly what happens during a half marathon - I don't know if you guys would be interested though?_

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I probably won't get to write again until Thursday night, unless I'm avoiding the TONS of work I have due before then. :)_

_As always, reviews are insanely appreciated. To those who reviewed and favorited and followed this story and myself... THANK YOU. I'm so grateful for your interest and support._


	3. Mile Marker 2

**MILE MARKER 2:**

She has settled into a rhythm when they passed mile marker two, and their pace was good. The clock read 27:30, and she did the calculation: they started 9 minutes after the gun went off, so 18:30, divided by two. A brisk pace for Castle's first half marathon, their pace was 9:15 minute miles, and she decided to slow down over the next mile during this story.

She felt his gaze on her, and she smiled to herself for a moment, because she loved that he's this eager, before speaking. "What's up, Castle?"

He pouted. "We finished the second mile! I want my story."

"Always patient, Castle. It's one of your more attractive qualities." She snarked back, softening the words by turning to him and giving a little smile. "But since you asked so nicely…"

She pulled back the pace, slowing them and reaching for the memories in her mind. "I wasn't always this way, you know? The poise, the beauty, the grace – I bloomed in high school. In middle school, I was an awkward kid, tall with long lanky limbs, all bones and skin, and a big nose. I didn't know how to do anything with my hair so it was always in a braid or a pigtail."

A smile shone on Castle's face, and she gave him an exasperated look. "Sorry, just… pigtail takes me to pigtails takes me to slutty schoolgirl, and there is NOTHING unattractive about that picture."

"Now that I know another one of your fetishes, can I continue?" He nodded. "Alright, so while you might want to see me in a schoolgirl outfit now, back then nobody really gave Katie a second look. I was one of the guys, but never anything else. I was learning about love and had crushes on guys, but I was always Katie, the girl who was like a sister, the girl left behind when they went to go hold hands with blonde Ashley or blithe Christine."

She narrated the story of the day on the playground when Michael, the hottest guy in her year, asked her if he could talk to her _in private _and she got so excited. When they met in that secluded corner of the schoolyard, she was ready for her first kiss ever, but he just asked her whether her friend Anna had any crushes, because he really _really_ liked her. Kate had swallowed the hurt and told him the truth; Anna couldn't stop talking about Michael. The next day, the latest gossip informed her the two were together, and she was disappointed, because, yeah, crushes didn't _really _matter, but they did to a twelve-year-old.

Castle looked at her, and awkwardly put a hand onto Kate's arm, messing up both their strides. "You know he was an idiot, right?"

"I know. So do you want to know about my first ever boyfriend?"

"Do I?"

"You do. His name was Colin, and he is still to this day the single most awkward, geeky person I have ever known – and YES," she interjected, before Castle could tease, "that includes the Nebula-9 fans I hanged out with at Stanford. Nobody was as geeky as Colin, and nobody really talked to him much but me. We liked comics, and that was our bond. Five days after Michael and Anna became an item, Colin asked me out." She laughed. "I honestly still don't know why I said yes, but I did. He took me to a movie – he tried to hold my hand in the 1 train, and I moved it out of reach – and then to ice cream because it was half price day at Baskin Robbins."

"Baskin Robbins? Seriously?"

"Seriously. The date was awkward and clumsy, and I spent the whole time imagining it was Michael there, and at the end he put this chaste kiss on my lips."

Castle grimaced, "Ugh, so I'm sharing your lips with Geek-boy?"

"I'm sure he'd be pissed to know I'm with a writer now. I think he wants to believe I ended up with Captain America, because THAT he could lose me to gracefully."

"Captain America?" Castle arched an eyebrow.

"Comics, remember? Captain America was always my favorite."

"Ahhh…" He smiled, tapped his head. "I've gotta store that away, you know, for some fun roleplaying night."

She smiled, decided to ignore the bait, before continuing. "The kiss was terrible. It was the classic crappy first kiss. I was disappointed because I was naïve enough to believer there would be fireworks and love and all the crap from rom coms. Colin asked me to be his girlfriend seconds after the kiss, and I was so startled, I said yes. He spent the next two weeks trying to hang out with me every day, calling my house, and I spent it hiding in empty classrooms and yelling at my parents not to answer the phone. We never had a second date or a second kiss – I walked up to him after school and told him we weren't going to go out anymore."

Kate stopped speaking for a moment, needing to catch her breath. In a minute, she began again. "The next day, shoved through the slots in my locker, I found a hand-drawn comic about an evil woman who broke the hero's heart. I don't even remember the end; I think the hero got some other girl who was prettier in the end? I do remember there were tears on the page." She sighed. "I felt so terribly about it. He wouldn't speak to me after that." A small laugh escaped. "I asked Colin when we graduated high school if he had forgiven me yet. I figured enough time had gone by, that maybe we could be acquaintances at least. He wouldn't even turn my way."

"Can you blame him? You broke his heart. He lost you." Castle's tone was serious, and it startled Kate, who expected him to tease and be lighthearted. She stole a glance at him. His gaze was hard, trained on the ground ahead of them.

"Castle?"

"I'm not going to make that mistake." He turned and looked at her, waited until she was looking at him. "I'm never letting you go, Kate."

The sincerity in his eyes left her off balanced; her breath hitched not from the exertion of the race, but from the love in his eyes. The moment hung between them, before she broke it with an exclamation. "Castle! Look out!" He stopped seconds before he was about to trip over a traffic cone, and the ungraceful leap he took to avoid the cone made her laugh aloud. "My boyfriend is_ so_ smooth."

He shot her a look at the use of boyfriend, but did not comment on it. "Scandalous comic book liaisons, secret meetings on the playground… you were groomed to go undercover."

"Tripping over traffic cones, breathing heavily after only two miles of running… you were bred to be a writer."

"Touché, detective, touché. Speaking of which, where the fuck is that mile three sign? We've been running for miles and miles now."

"Oh, calm down, you big baby. Look over there, that'll cheer you up." Kate pointed to a sign that read "Run like you stole something!" He smiled, and she laughed. Her calves burned and her feet were slightly sore, but the pain was starting to fade into a runner's high, each step getting lighter and easier. She liked telling Castle these stories. She thought it was going to be a trial to let him in for twelve narratives, but she was enjoying this.

She looked at Castle. She was enjoying him.

She's in love with him.

Oh yeah, the runner's high was definitely kicking in. But Kate didn't mind much. She grinned at Castle. No, she didn't mind at all.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, if you follow me as an author, and not just individual stories- aren't you guys just in love with me filling up your inbox? Crappy times for me = more writing for you!

As always, reviews are really appreciated. I actually can see myself improving in specific areas because of your feedback, and I'm so grateful for that.

This fiction shouldn't take me that much longer - I actually already have mile 7, mile 11, and mile 13.1 written, haha - so I'm hoping to finish it by Christmas at the latest! :)


End file.
